Saturday, June 11, 2016

To my daughter on her 3rd Angel Anniversary.

To my beautiful, beautiful daughter,

3 years today we said goodbye to you and I have been trying to make sense of it since the day we released you back to your heavenly home.  How you are missed Gabrielle Mae.

When you died, I wanted to run.  Run and run and run, somewhere with my house full of boys, somewhere where I can slow time down, and soak every second of it in. Somewhere, where I could sit in nature and be a part of your brother's beautiful childhood. A childhood that was stolen from you, a childhood that you did not get to experience in it's entirety. I want to soak it all in Gabrielle, I want to sit witness with tears streaming down my face, my spirit lit up with love and wonder as I watch the miracle of your brothers growing and living and running and playing. Childhood is such a  magical and innocent time in life and I want to see it all.  I want to deeply inhale every second of it, and I want to slow it all down. Away from the rat race, away from any expectations and away from the noise.

Oh Gabrielle, how you woke something inside of me.  Something so deep and a life force I've never felt before, powerful and real and able to have survived the un-imaginable.  I remember after receiving your devastating diagnosis, wondering how would I ever be able to live again once you died.  And every morning I wake up, and here I am.  My heart still beating, my lungs still taking in air.  I can't believe it.

Every parent's worse nightmare.

You continue to be the most darling daughter.  Saving me from my half-asleep existence and teaching me to live in the moment and to savour as much as you can in life.

You showed me strength in being broken.  Completely and utterly broken.  And you also showed me the strength of the human spirit.  You see, when you died, I died too.  Our souls tethered together, I wanted to go with you.  And these last 3 years I have learned real sorrow, real brokenness and deep sadness.  Amidst the pain and suffering, I have also seen light and I have witnessed my own strength and courage.  Some moments I don't think I can possibly move and other moments I feel more alive then I'd ever dreamed of.  I gasp for air and fall to my knees and embrace the pain and I release the guttural sobs and tears.  And then however long I need, I get up.  For you, your brothers, your dad and for me.  Because that is what you would do, and always did.

You lived your life with such grace and strength until the day you died.  I will always choose to honour you and this life I've been given.  Even on days when all I want to do is curl up into a ball and scream at the unfairness of it all, for not being able to save you and to kiss your 'owies' away.  I will continue to move through the discomfort and confusion and disorientation that accompanies child loss.  I am weak and I am strong.

I will continue to reach towards light in the darkness and continue to carefully mend the pieces back into my new, very different reality.

I will continue to search for you.  I am irrevocably changed baby girl and I would re-live all the pain and trauma all over again if it meant one more second with you.

Thank you for being the most amazing daughter Gabrielle.

Your mamma, forever and ever.  And ever and ever.

Wednesday, May 4, 2016

The month of 'Mae'

My daughter.  My girl, my dream.  If it were possible for a mother and daughter to be soul mates, Gabrielle is mine and I am hers.

Her playful, gentle, fun-loving nature melted your heart.  She oozed with the most delightful energy that made you want to laugh and talk and be with her and her eyes drew you in.  She was so wise, wise beyond her years.

My story of Gabrielle is a love story.  It is an enduring love journey that not even death can steal from me.  It is my biggest fear that my daughter will be forgotten, will become a distant memory in the hearts and minds of friends and family as time carries on.  But in me, she is alive.  She is strong and healthy and she is draped over my entire body and spirit, invisible to the eye but present to me every second.

In the birds, in the flowers, in the ladybugs and butterflies and light. She owns them, they are hers and ours. Messages from her world right to my heart.  Our hearts. Reminding us that she is still with us.  Her love continuing to make our hearts beat strong.  Protecting us and guiding us as we carry forward with Gabrielle slightly ahead of us.

My little girl will never celebrate any more birthdays, go to school, graduate, or get married.  My heart has accepted that but I continually try to find ways to keep her spirit alive everywhere.

I'm beginning to think that all these beautiful pieces in nature: daisies, lavender, and songbirds were put on this earth to help me connect with Gabrielle.  They were put here as reminders and to help me to continue unfolding her story and her connection from her world to mine.

The month of May is a beautiful and painful month for us. May was Gabrielle Mae's last month on earth, and as time moves forward and her story continues, it comes to no surprise that her middle name is "Mae".  May is a time of beauty, hope, joy and love.   May is a month to celebrate, to celebrate life and the love of a mother for her dear child.

It's as if this May I've noticed an explosion of life, of spirit in nature.  Gabrielle is alive everywhere, the songbirds outside, the butterflies and the beautiful flowers in bloom.  Singing her song, showing her beauty and making her mamma feel connected and her heart beat.  This story is a journey of deep love.

As her 3rd Angel anniversary approaches on the 7th of June, her 6th birthday on the 13th of October and as I quietly and loudly continue to love and miss her through her death, the month of May becomes even more meaningful.

I want to spend the whole month of May in a garden where our spirits can be so strongly connected and I can whisper to the wind "I love you Gabrielle Mae.  I love you, I love you. I love you."

Saturday, October 10, 2015

Jimmy, Mickey, Jonny ~ Fall 2015

Gabrielle would have been 5 this coming Tuesday. She continues to live through us in spirit.

Sunday, February 15, 2015

Wise words for the day.

After an emotional couple of days, Oprah said just what I needed to hear.  Thank you Oprah.

Friday, October 31, 2014


Dearest Gabrielle,

Do you remember this?  This was your last Halloween with us on earth.  Your big brother James was in Kindergarten and I took the two older kids (you and Michael) to the school while Jonny slept to watch Jimmy's class parade through the school in their costumes and sing songs afterwards.  I dressed you up in your lady bug costume that I still have hanging in your closet.  How I miss having you in my arms.  How I miss bringing you up to the school.

Today, 2 years later, Michael had his parade and songs in the Kindergarten classroom but he wouldn't dress up and he wouldn't go into the class until all the moms and dad's had left and the classroom had returned to a semi normal state.  He insisted I hold his hand the whole time we paraded through the school and he was the only little boy without his costume on.  I didn't mind, I was so proud of your brother anyways.

I miss you beautiful girl.  Look how happy we look together, you lit up every room you went in Gabrielle.  You were so special.

Happy Halloween.